


Hiding in the Light

by sleep_and_feel_no_pain



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2243346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep_and_feel_no_pain/pseuds/sleep_and_feel_no_pain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set directly after the Summerslam 2014 Lumberjack Match. </p>
<p>Dean is used to the darkness, but ever reaching for the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding in the Light

It feels a little too much like old times, like how things used to feel, before, before all of this, before there was Seth and Roman, before The Shield, before being called up to the main roster, before FCW: slinking into the darkest corner of the venue, letting the shadows wrap around him and seep into the deepest parts of his soul. Seeking solitude, a way to calm the swirling chaos of the raging storm inside of him. Once upon a long ago time this was his life - all at once fighting valiantly against the darkness while allowing it to consume him whole. The pull and push of rage and anger and bitterness which had been as much a part of him as the air in his lungs and the beating of his blackened heart, it had all been something that he had been resigned to just accept as his reality then. The demon that lived inside of him fought for control, and more often than not, that demon won. 

But that was before.

Before he had not spared a second thought to the reason he sought the darkness. Now, now, it burned him far more than it had back then. After spending the past few years in the light, the darkness was that much more formidable and suffocating. 

And this, this is what he deserved. This is what he deserved for allowing himself to believe, even for one golden second, that he was meant for anything more than the darkness.

Seth, with all his bright smiles and warmth, a shimmering light that resonated from a place so far removed from the one Dean Ambrose had always known, had come along and somehow, someway, managed to drag him kicking and screaming away from that familiar and almost comforting place he had known his whole life. And at first, although the light had actually felt almost painful, slowly it had started to encroach on that darkness, wrestling it into a tentative sort of submission, until before Dean knew what was really happening, he had stopped actively seeking the dark and turning more toward that light. Craving it, needing it, trying desperately to wrap his filthy hands around it to bring it closer, closer, closer...

Over the time he had spent in developmental and the two years that The Shield had come and conquered their way to the top of the vicious game of the WWE, he had somehow managed to allow himself to actually feel things, unfamiliar things that felt so foreign that they at times made his insides seem alive and with a life of their own as they twisted inside of his gut. 

He'd become rather close to Roman, enough that he considered them blood, brothers in every sense of the word short of birth to the same people. And even though their bond was largely one of a competitive nature, one of a game of one-upsmanship that they played together, and although sometimes they would bicker and fight until Seth would snap at them angrily and storm away, still they were close enough that one would take a bullet for the other without hesitation. This was certainly something brand new to Dean, who had had a few close friends in his life but had never really allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to be this close to someone else.

And then there was Seth.

His mind ran in circles, as it always did, as he thought over his unique (to him, anyway) friendship with Seth Rollins. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. When he had first gone to FCW, all he'd wanted was to do what he'd always done: fight and scratch and claw his way to the top of the food chain. And to do that, he knew that he had to conquer the very best. Which at that time had been none other than Seth Rollins.

Sure, they had had an extremely tense and epic rivalry, neither being able to really best the other. They traded wins back and forth for a long time. And all the while Dean felt... he wasn't entirely sure exactly what that initial feeling was, and if asked he certainly couldn't pin it down to actually voice a name for it, but it was.. there was something there. Growing all the while. Each win, each loss, each confrontation between him and Seth caused this almost imperceivable feeling to continue to crawl along inside his brain, battling with that darkness that lived here. Seth's light would storm the castle and fight its way inside each time, leaving him feeling a bit breathless and off kilter. 

At first Dean hadn't even realized what was happening. He'd acknowledged rather quickly that he'd never had chemistry with anyone in the ring like he had experienced with Seth. Something about the way they clicked, counter for counter, move for move, felt like magic. The air was heavy with it, their bodies colliding and sliding sweat-slick one along the other, and Dean had put it down to simple adrenaline and the heady excitement that had always been present for him in the ring, but he had never experienced it quite this acutely. After the first few times, however, he started to realize that there actually was something more. Something, something in Seth's eyes, when he would catch his gaze. Whether it was in the heat of a match, during a promo on camera, or even away from everyone else, in private... there was something, some kind of light in those eyes that made something in his insides constrict and feel pulled in Seth's direction. Like he was being drawn in by some weird magnetic force. He'd tried to ignore it, for awhile. The darkness inside of him firmly recoiled away from that light, even as it wove such an intricate spell over him, stealing inside of him like a thief in the night. And he'd tried to back away, tried to keep his distance. He'd avoided Seth if it was at all possible, not able to comprehend this indescribable feeling of pushing and pulling not very much unlike the one that he felt from the darkness, but still wholly unfamiliar and uncomfortable to him all the same. But somehow Seth would always end up finding ways to interact with him. Whether it was on purpose or by pure happenstance, Dean was never quite sure. Because although it did seem like Seth sought him out, but he didn't allow himself to believe that at first. 

It wasn't until Seth started blatantly waiting for him to arrive at the venue, standing there waiting for him and greeting him immediately as he would come in that he started to admit, to himself, that Seth really did seem like he was seeking his attention. And like a moth to a flame, he felt himself being drawn in. Felt that light finding the cracks in his armor and seeping inside. He'd come, somehow, to anticipate and even begin to enjoy the ritual of the greeting he knew was waiting for him when he would walk through the door: the smile on Seth's face, the way he would light up as he'd clap him on the shoulder with a loud "Ambrose! What's up, man?"

They started to form a tentative friendship off camera, hanging out after shows and going to bars together. Seth had a habit, a very strange habit in Dean's eyes, of being extremely tactile. He'd drape an arm over Dean's shoulder, lean into him, touch the small of his back or his arm while they would talk and laugh in conversation. At first it seemed to only happen when Seth had had a few drinks, but as they grew closer and more comfortable in each other's presence, he'd started to do it in normal, non-alcohol induced conversations as well. 

It took quite some time for Dean to adjust to this. He hadn't been one for physical affection, not back then. Even his sexual encounters were more a means to an end, a quick passage to release rather than affectionate in nature. So for Seth to impose such a foreign thing upon him made him quite a bit uncomfortable at first, and he would always jolt or tense when Seth's skin would make contact with his own. But slowly, as that light that positively radiated out of Seth started to bleed into him by proxy through each and every touch, it had started to not phase him as much. He started, even, to crave it, gradually turning his back on the dangerous yet familiar darkness. And all of this happened almost without Dean even realizing it.

When the whole idea of storming the main roster with Roman and Seth had been laid upon the table, Dean had leapt at the chance. Not simply because this was what he'd been working for most of his life at that point, but also because it meant that he and Seth would have a chance to grow even closer. And that light inside of Seth beckoned him, pulled at him. He needed, wanted, more.

Dean would never be able to pinpoint exactly when he made the mental leap between loving Seth as a friend, as a brother in arms, and realizing that something inside of him had grown addicted to him in a way that was wholeheartedly frightening to him. But as he grew closer to Roman and their friendship remained platonic on every level, his friendship with Seth kept right on growing, reaching newer and more intense plateaus. 

All of this had only been happening inside of him, however, as far as he could tell. He'd never really gotten a clear sign from Seth that he felt anything like he himself did. Seth had a girlfriend, a long term relationship. And while every now and again Seth would look at him in a way that would make his heart seize suddenly and heavily, before stuttering out a frenzied and excited pattern within the cage of his ribs, it was always a very fleeting, fragile thing that happened mainly when he'd taken a solid bump in the ring. Those near-black eyes would shine as they stared into his own, giving him the feeling that they were reaching deep down into his soul, where all his demons lie. All his darkest secrets. Then, almost as suddenly as it would occur, Seth would drop his gaze, and things would go back to the usual comradarie they were accustomed to.

It didn't stop Dean from falling for him though, unbidden and resisting with all his might the whole time. By the time they'd had their feud with Evolution and had cemented themselves as the top dogs in the yard, Dean had finally managed to acknowledge everything, and had admitted to himself that, despite the fact that he'd fought it tooth and nail once he'd realized what was happening, he was fatally in love with Seth Rollins. Fatally in love with someone he knew he could never have.

Still, what he did have was Seth at his side, and Roman as well, and all the friendly touches and hugs and celebrations between them as they continued to dominate in the ring. And out of the ring he had the best traveling partners and closest friends he had ever had in his life. They would joke and laugh and close down every bar in every city they worked; the three of them, taking on the world together inside the ring and out. To Dean, who had never had such a brotherhood with anyone, it was new and exciting in a way that he'd never before known.

So in spite of the fact that he harbored these feelings toward Seth, he was still happier than he'd ever been. And he'd resigned himself to merely reveling in the affections he could get. He had gone about his life in this manner all this time, and allowed Seth's light to continue to battle his darkness further down until it lay dormant in the deep recesses of his mind. With every touch and every smile, it would keep sinking into him until before long, he'd felt more light than dark. And for once, he had something he'd never had before. He had hope. Hope for what exactly, he wasn't sure. He never truly dared to hope that Seth could feel the same, because he didn't think he would survive it if it never came to pass. But that golden, glittering feeling that flowed through his heart as Seth would turn on him his brightest smile and snake his arms about his shoulders, he couldn't find any word more fitting to call it than hope.

But it had been all for nothing. 

The universe had certainly never spared Dean any misery, and the cruelest trick the universe had ever played on him had come not with the darkness that he had known for so long, like he had always thought, but instead in the form of that shining, beautiful light that he'd wanted more than anything, the light inside of Seth which now was lost to him forever.

A little more than two months ago, he had felt that light splinter into tiny shards, and slowly, slowly it had since been seeping out through the cracks that still remained in his soul, filtering out of him just as seamlessly as it had managed to filter in, leaving behind the ever present darkness that still lurked inside of his mind. He'd not ever managed to truly capture that light, of course, had not ever been able to hold it close enough to heal the damage the world had already afflicted upon him up to that point. He'd tried desperately at first to hold onto what was left, neither willing or able to simply let it flow out of him. But try as he might, it had slipped through his fingers like so many tiny, sparkling grains of sand.

The memory was still as fresh as the moment it had been imprinted in his brain, burned there like a brand. The feeling of that light pouring out of him still as acute and heart wrenching as it's ever been. The second that chair had cracked against his brother Roman, it was as if time had slowed to a crawl like that bizarre effect cinematographers use in films for dramatic effect. He'd turned in wide eyed disbelief to stare at Seth, staring into those dark eyes he'd grown so accustomed to seeing filled with that addictive light, being struck numb seeing instead they were filled with the same darkness that lived inside of his own soul... and something had clicked then. There was an almost physically tangible shift in perception in that moment, when the rose tint he'd allowed Seth to place across his eyes had unceremoniously been peeled away and he knew, knew, that he had been a fool. 

The light would never truly defeat the darkness. It was just an illusion that he'd allowed himself, guiltily, to cloak about his shoulders in an effort to finally have some sort of semblance of hope for the first time in his life. And oh, what a fool he had felt in that moment, feeling the steel bite him over and over as Seth swung that chair against him. He hadn't even mustered the ability to attempt to defend himself; he'd simply allowed Seth to have his way, wailing on him mercilessly, the chair in his hands actually bending with the force he put behind his swings, before finally Seth put the final nail into the coffin, stomped his skull into another chair with a resounding thud. And as he'd lied there, his body ravaged and head throbbing from the abuse, the sounds of the shock in the arena dimmed and faded away from his consciousness as what had just occurred sank in. Somehow, the tiny voice in his head, the darkness which had been strangled by Seth's light up until this moment, it managed to whisper loud inside his brain, and with a sick sort of clarity, "this is what you get."

Curling into himself in the corner, attempting to hide himself from anyone and anything seeking to find him, he finally let out the tremulous sob that had been threatening to crawl out of his soul since his match with Seth earlier in the night. He wrapped his arms around his torso, squeezing himself tightly, and lowered his head, blinking against the tears stinging his eyes. He didn't cry often; crying was something he'd been conditioned to believe was a sign of weakness, and fighting against the darkness for most of his life had certainly made him strong. Dean Ambrose was no cream puff. He was no weakling and he didn't allow himself outbursts of strong emotion, save for anger and rage. But Seth... Seth had changed all of that somehow.

In his mind he could hear Seth's voice: "You were never my friend. You were never my brother. I never gave a damn about you in the first place." A shudder wracked his body, a sharp inhale followed by a sharper exhale, tinged with a pathetic sounding whine. He could see himself holding Seth's head between his hands just an hour prior, his fingers threading through the two toned curls as he leaned close to him, could hear his own voice betraying his emotions to Seth in front of the world, "I love you." He'd leaned closer still and placed a kiss to Seth's forehead, breathing in a nose full of Seth's scent as he was sure that this was the last opportunity he would ever have to do so, and then he'd done what he'd had to do. He'd stomped Seth face first into the ring, heard the sickening thump of his skull cracking against the mat. It took everything in him, every ounce of self control he had, not to burst into tears as every emotion he'd ever felt for Seth demanded his attention all at once, in that one moment in time. He's sure it was plainly written on his face for the thousands watching live, and the however many more watching as the camera zoomed in for a close-up of his misery. And in that second he'd felt about as weak as he'd ever remembered feeling before. But there was no time to pause and reflect, as time didn't so much as stutter before there was chaos all around, bodies surrounding him in the ring in a wild melee. Before he'd even known it, he'd felt the crack of Seth's briefcase against his head and he'd gone down, Seth landing neatly beside him across his outstretched arm. He felt Seth rolling toward him, going for the pin, and before he could stop himself, he felt his arm curling up around Seth's back, guiding him, pulling him close, close, closer, like he'd lost control of his higher brain thought and gone on autopilot, his base instinct simply to grasp what was left of that light and squeeze it for all it was worth. Hold it, bask in it, breathe it in; soak as much of it into himself as he possibly could before it was truly gone forever. 

And then, then, it was over and Seth lay stretched across him as the music blared and the fans screamed viciously. But all Dean could focus on was the feeling of Seth draped across his ribcage, his own heart thundering out a panicked, erratic pattern against Seth's back as he knew that any second, Seth would roll away from him and when he did, any light he'd managed to consume would go with him. 

He didn't even remember leaving the ring. He didn't remember how exactly he'd made it to where he was now, curled in on himself in the darkest area he could find. Crying to himself like a wounded animal. 

"Dean?"

The soft voice which called out to him reached in and wrapped an icy, iron fist around his heart. Still, he quickly ran his hands down his face, scrubbing the rebel tears away and snorting loudly, coughing. 

When he finally raised his head, he saw Seth standing not three feet away, leaning down toward him slightly. In the dim light he could see those eyes, dark as coals, but unlike the past two months those eyes weren't looking at him with such cruel darkness shimmering in their depths. They were looking at him like they used to, all warmth and light and emotion and for a second Dean can't remember how to breathe. 

But only for a second. He scrambled up to full height, puffing his chest out and squaring his shoulders soundly, attempting to look as brash and tough as he possibly could to cover how raw and destroyed he felt inside. "What're you doing here?" he spat coldly, fixing his best deadly glare on Seth.

"I could ask you the same thing," Seth responded, and he didn't give an inch, wasn't intimidated in the least by Dean's defensive stance. "I looked everywhere for you. Nobody'd seen you since our match and I was just about to give up when something told me exactly where you would be." He took one tentative step forward, and when Dean didn't charge him on the attack, took another, then another. 

Now he faced him, staring deep into the crystal blue of Dean's eyes. Dean faltered just a tiny bit, his posture deflating ever so slightly. Dean could tell Seth was trying to read him, look past his facade to reach inside him again, to see his demons and secrets. Dean's breath caught in his throat as that light slammed into him again; immediately he felt himself being drawn in. And really, why should it be any different? Nothing's changed, not really. Seth's betrayal of their sacred triad, their vicious battles of words and fists and kicks and stomps and steel, did nothing to change the fact that when all the chips were down, Seth Rollins had always had Dean Ambrose's number. He'd always managed to reign him in, draw him closer with just a look, pour that addictive light inside of him even though he fought for control. No matter how hard he'd tried in those early days, no matter how hard he tried now, Dean had never managed to deny Seth. And it was no different now than it had ever been.

"So what do you care? Huh? Why the fuck is it suddenly so important that you know where I am?" Dean raised his voice a bit, still trying valiantly to put forth some sort of bravado to cover his perceived weakness. "Thought you never cared about me at all?"

A soft chuckle colored the air and Seth shook his head. "Just stop, okay? I didn't come here to fight. I came here because... well, because it seems like no matter what shit goes down out there, no matter what we say to each other or even what we feel in the heat of the moment, there is something between us that can't be ignored."

Dean stares at him for a moment, his heart floundering in his chest a few times before starting its jackhammer rhythm once again. He feels rooted to the floor, frozen in time again, and how is it that Seth always manages to do that to him? He can't move even when Seth closes the small gap that still remains between them, stepping squarely into his personal space before he feels Seth's hands place themselves against his chest, pushing ever so slightly. He doesn't resist, lets Seth push him one step back, two, three, until his back is pushed against the wall and Seth is holding him there. 

"You look, but you never see. You never saw, not now, not then." Seth is whispering, his voice thick and full of emotion. Dean can only stare into those nearly black eyes, can barely manage to keep pulling shaky breaths into his burning lungs as Seth continues, "All this time and you are still running. And I tried, I really did try to let this go. I left because I thought you would never wake up and see me. I couldn't bear to stay when I couldn't make you... when I couldn't have..." He trailed off here, but the words left unspoken rang clear in the air as Seth's hand snaked around to the nape of his neck, threading through the sweaty curls resting there, tugging gently. When he continued again, Dean had to strain to hear him because his voice was so hushed. "We were both fools, I guess. Because I was so focused on making you see me that I never looked, really looked, and saw you." Those dark eyes bore into his own, flooded with that damned light and far more emotion than Dean could ever remember seeing there before, until they slipped closed as he tugged once again at Dean's hair, urging him forward as he leaned to meet him and press his lips against his own.

Time, which had slowed and skittered to a halt almost completely the second Seth had pressed his body against the wall and trapped him there with his solid frame pressed against his, suddenly started once more as all the walls Dean had carefully constructed came tumbling down, and everything inside of him tumbled out of his tensed body like an avalanche. His own hands found Seth's face between them, cupping his jaw firmly as the shock and... (fear? was it fear?) slipped away and he finally reacted, throwing himself into the kiss headlong, tilting his head and pushing his tongue into the warm heat of Seth's mouth, dancing it along Seth's. Three years of chasing the light, three years of attempting to grasp it and hold it close but never truly succeeding, it had all boiled down to this one moment. And somehow, the broken and twisted road which had led them here made perfect sense in the clarity of the moment.

Sometimes you have to destroy something completely before you can rebuild into something more spectacular. Leave it to The Architect to realize this.

Finally pulling back from the kiss, panting a bit, Seth's eyes seemed to shine brighter than ever as he smiled at Dean.

"I love you, too," he whispered softly. "I love you, too."


End file.
